Everybody's broken
by Leolina
Summary: A lonely boy, a lonely man...everybody's broken, but mending yourself is mending the other. Non-slash, Obi-Wan/Anakin in their first weeks together.
1. Everybody's broken

Hey you all,

surprise, I can write non-slash, too :-) It's quite an old piece of work, actually, but I loved writing it, and I hope you will enjoy reading!

I could have uploaded something romantic, too, but I don't want to be set on one topic, and in fact, I'm not quite keen on writing romantic stuff right now. :-)

This is the first chapter of maybe five or six, but it could stand alone, too. I wrote in like a One-Shot on purpose…it won't happen like the last time that I abandon a story for far too long without an apt end!

Thanks for reading…and I'd love to see your feedback!

Love, Leolina

_

* * *

_

It's ok to be a little broken – everybody's broken in this life.

_It's ok to feel a little broke – everybody's broken, you're alright._

_It's just life. _

_Everybody's broken – Bon Jovi_

Anakin gazed at the man in front of him.

"Master…"

How odd this word felt on his lips. He did not know the man in front of him, but somehow he must have been friends with Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon had been nice. He had hugged him and showed him the stars. But Qui-Gon was dead, and Anakin did not know if he could trust the man in front of him.

The man was his Master now, and Anakin thought that he was quite intimidating. He was not as tall as Qui-Gon, but he was taciturn and pale, and obviously he was in pain. Anakin knew that it had been him to cause this pain, it was always his fault. He was a silly boy, he could never do anything right, and for sure the man in front of him knew that well.

"Master Obi-Wan…"

Anakin had heard how the man had yelled at the other dark, bald man who was even more intimidating, and in fact people said that he had killed someone. His mother had told him that killing was bad.

Anakin could hardly suppress a sob. He missed his mother so much that it hurt, but he wouldn't let it show to the man. Tears were weak, Watto had always hit him for crying, and for sure the man would hit him, too.

He had not completely understood why the man was here with him, and he had not talked for hours, he just sat there and stared into the deep blue yonder. Probably he was too annoyed about Anakin's presence to speak, but the boy did not know where else to go. So he stayed, a shivering bundle in an armchair, because it was cold, oh, so cold in here.

The last thing the man had said to him was "You will be a Jedi. I promise.", but right now, Anakin was not even sure if he wanted to become a Jedi at all. All he wanted was being in his mother's arms, even if Watto blew the hell out of him. His mother was gentle, she'd never punch him, and her eyes were full of love. The eyes of the man were just cold and distant.

He didn't seem to like Anakin. When he had arrived at the man's place, his hair had been cut short but a small ponytail in his neck. Truth to tell, he had been really frightened of the man's reaction, because he wore the same haircut. Anakin didn't want to annoy him, he didn't want him to think that he was copied by a silly boy, but in fact nobody had asked him what he wanted and he would have been too frightened to tell, either. When he saw the man…his Master again, he had cut his hair, too. The small ponytail had vanished, and the braid was gone, too.

Anakin had stiffened. Obviously the man abhorred him so much that he couldn't even bear having the same haircut.

Time went by, and it became harder and harder for Anakin to stay silent. He had not eaten for days, and soon his stomach would rumble. The honey-blonde boy nervously pressed his hands on his belly, trying to suppress the imminent noise. Master Obi-Wan would hear him, and then he would get angry because Anakin had disturbed him, and he would hit him like Watto had, sure he would.

Anakin deserved it, he didn't deserve anything but blows, left, right, until his lip dehisced and he tasted the salty taste of his own blood, strangely comforting, something one could rely on.

One could not rely on anyone, that was what Watto had told him, but he had disregarded this rule for his mother. She had to be an exception, because her eyes were true, and she had never betrayed him. Anakin was not sure to what extent she could have betrayed him, but everybody could, every time. It was better not to trust anyone, because they would slap you and leave you, and although you knew you deserved it because you were a nuisance, it hurt.

Anakin didn't want to be a nuisance. He didn't want to make the man angry. He was the only thing that was left for him, because his mother was on Tatooine, and Qui-Gon had died. They had left him…maybe Watto had been right. Nobody should be trusted, nobody. Anakin ordered himself to be invisible for the man, and as silent as a shadow. Maybe then he would be contented with him, but Anakin knew he deceived himself. Nobody ever was contented with him.

Suddenly his stomach growled noisily. Anakin froze. Why couldn't he do right for one time in his life?

Two surprising blue eyes faced him, but they were not glowing with anger and disdain…there was an almost regretful expression that colored them the tiniest bit of cobalt.

"Force, Anakin! I'm…I'm sorry. I've completely forgotten…You must be starving!"

The man jumped up and Anakin jerked back, but he just headed towards the room Anakin considered to be the kitchen. At home, on Tatooine, his mother had cooked over a fire, and embers and blaze had mixed with the delicious taste of the dishes, but here, Anakin hadn't found anything that looked like a hearth or something, just thousands of difficult gadgets and devices.

At the thought of his mother, a single tear leaked out of his eyes. Mom…

"Anakin?"

The man stared at him from the kitchen door. Obviously he had expected Anakin to follow, but the boy hadn't noticed it. He was always daydreaming, he was never doing things right, and now the intimidating, strange man had seen him crying, too.

Anakin quickly wiped away the tears, but obviously the enthralling blue eyes couldn't be tricked that easily. The man approached him quickly and Anakin shrank back , eyes wide open with fear.

"I'm sorry…I didn't want to…please…please, don't hit me!"

The man was lifting his hands and Anakin closed his eyes, expecting the first, burning slap, but nothing happened, nothing but a soft touch on his cheek, and as the boy opened his eyes again he saw a large, calloused hand grazing his forehead, and then he was pulled into a warm, cozy lap, the lap of his Master.

Anakin stiffened. Probably this was a trick. Watto had sometimes ruffled his hair and told him what a clever little boy he was just to slap his face then without a warning. But the man's chest was so warm and cordial, and, how peculiar, he was gently stroking his back and made soft, shooing noises.

"Hush, Anakin, it's fine. I know it's hard…I know. But everything will be alright…I promise."

And then Anakin could not hold on any longer. He burst into tears, crying into the man's tunic, crying for his mother, for his friends, for Qui-Gon, crying because it was so cold and he was hungry and exhausted, crying because he was so weak, a pathetic burden, a nuisance, a sniveler no one could like. Master Obi-Wan would be disgusted by his weakness, he would leave and then Anakin would be all alone.

He tried to tell Master Obi-Wan how sorry he was, but the too long suppressed sobs rocked his small body so heavily that he could not even take a decent breath, and Obi-Wan pulled him closer towards him, his face still buried in the cream-and chocolate-colored tunics.

The words that reached Anakin made him hiccup in surprise.

"Ani, oh, my Ani…I'm so sorry! I've completely ignored you…please forgive me."

Again Anakin was lost for words. Why did Master Obi-Wan apologize? Everything was his fault, it always was, wasn't it? The man held him away on arm's length, serene blue eyes meeting his in silent appreciation and sorrow.

"Anakin…Padawan. I'm really sorry. I'm sad about Qui-Gon's death, but that's no excuse. I haven't thought about your well-being…I'm such a jerk."

And suddenly the honesty radiating from the magic eyes wiped away Anakin's fears and he launched himself into his Masters arms again.

Obi-Wan was taken completely aback, lost his balance and fell backwards, Anakin still cradled in his arms. Again the boy froze in shock. He didn't know anything about Jedi Rules, but knocking over your Master had to be a severe crime, for sure.

To his surprise Obi-Wan simply chuckled and ruffled his hair. He dragged Anakin with him gently as he stood up, and again Anakin felt the connection between them as the calm voice made his heart hum.

"And I want you to know, Padawan, that I would never hurt you."

And somehow Anakin's tensed body relaxed for the first time in months and he cautiously placed his head right above his Master's heart that was beating strongly, regularly, like a little being walking enthusiastically, and Anakin decided that it would b quite good to walk along with his Master.

Obi-Wan wiped away one last tear,

"Come on, Padawan, let's eat something. Would you laugh if I told you that I can make the best pancakes in the whole galaxy?"


	2. Little Wonders

I know, this has taken far too long…I hope you'll like it anyway. I loved to imagine this part, it's quite fluffy…and no tears this time, no angst, no sad romances, just…pancakes :-) I'm planning to include some of these small One-Shots into the story line...I thought of this idea as just too cute to be forgotten. Review, please?

_

* * *

_

All lights with me in these small hours,

_these little wonders, _

_These twists and turns of fate, _

_time falls away, but these small hours still remain. _

_Little Wonders – Rob Thomas_

"Please stir the batter, Anakin, while I'm setting the table."

"And…and I cannot spoil anything?"

Worried midnight-blue eyes glanced over an enormous bowl of batter. Obi-Wan smirked.

"Not at all, young one. Even Qui-Gon couldn't have wrecked this meal…oh well, apparently he did…but you won't, I'm sure"

"What happened?"

"Somehow he figured that pepper would be the ultimate secret ingredient for pancake dough…he took five teaspoons. I guess I never laughed harder than at the sight of my Master steaming with rage…steaming literally."

Anakin's laughter filled the kitchen, and Obi-Wan couldn't help joining it, although he felt a sharp sting in his chest. _Qui-Gon…_

Again he focused his eyes on the small blonde boy who stirred so eagerly that his face was already covered with flour. The kid already looked less timid, less vulnerable, far more like the nine-year-old boy he actually was. But how small the silhouette had seemed earlier…as if Anakin had partly succeeded in his desperate attempt to become invisible. It touched Obi-Wan to realize that all Anakin needed was a little distraction from pondering and watching his Master grieve to literally burgeon…and his shy smile made him feel a little less devastated, too.

"Hmmm, that looks fine, actually. Ok, then let's try the first one."

Anakin backed away immediately and watched Obi-Wan curiously as he spilled the batter into the pan, waited a minute and then suddenly launched the pancake up in the air, but before Anakin even managed to shriek in shock, Obi-Wan had already caught it nonchalantly. Anakin's eyes were as big as the plates on the table.

"Wooooooooooow!"

Obi-Wan couldn't help grinning.

"I truly appreciate your praise, Padawan. Wanna try the next one?"

Anakin nodded frantically, the tiny Padawan braid dancing behind his ear. Obi-Wan again poured some dough into the pan and gave it to the boy, instructed him to wait a little and then…

"Careful, Padawan!"

Obi-Wan's shout came a little too late, and the half-ready pancake Anakin had tossed into the air a bit too enthusiastically soared through the kitchen like a peculiar spacecraft

"I'll get it! I'll get it!", Anakin yelled and jumped headfirst over a chair, arms with the pan outstretched, Obi-Wan cringed at the sound of his Padawan hitting the floor and as he dared to look, Anakin sat in a corner, gaze absolutely uncomprehending and the pancake like a strange hat on his blonde thatch.

"I…I got it.", the boy whispered, obviously dreading the consequences of his actions, but Obi-Wan only stared, and then, he started to laugh. Self-composure, Jedi attitude and even his terrible grief forgotten momentarily, he laughed and laughed until he had to sit down on the floor, too, and Anakin simply had to join his Master's laughing fit because it was so infective and heartfelt, and they both laughed until they were completely out of breath.

Finally Obi-Wan regained his collectedness, stood up and cleaned his still giggling Padawan, lips still twisting mischievously. Then he put another pan from the drawer.

"You throw and I catch!"

And when they finally sat down to eat and Anakin savored the first bite of the delicious pancakes, he thought that his had been almost as much fun as Podracing.


	3. Teach me again

Again, it's been a long time…and I'm sorry, I hate to let you down, but it's so difficult to find pastime for fanfiction right now…I won't abandon this story, promise, and if it takes a thousand years to complete it.

And…I know that Anakin and Shmi don't have the same eye color…but it's far more dramatic this way, isn't it? =)

* * *

The story of Obi-Wan and Anakin cannot be told without talking about the way they influenced each other. When they first met, it was the encounter of a tiny, blonde, curious boy and a devoted, rational, reserved Jedi Padawan. When they last met, it was a meeting of a rage-filled, infamous machine and an old, deflated Jedi Master, one of the last of his kind.

No matter how they always differed from each other, unseen the attributes they started to despise in each other, and neglecting the possibility that many things would have turned out in another way if they had never met – they belong together, as their stories were melt together by fate, destiny, or by the almighty power not only Jedi believe in – the Force.

* * *

_I cannot sleep, I cannot dream tonight,_

_I need somebody and always this sick, strange darkness,_

_Comes creeping up so haunting every time…_

_I miss you - blink-182_

_Obi-Wan taught Anakin what it was liked to be cared for._

_A slender woman with sandy hair and midnight-blue eyes…eyes like his own…Mother…he tried to touch her, tried to reach her, but couldn't move his feet, couldn't come closer, and there were shadows that engulfed her…he cried for her to run, but she just smiled and a single tear leaked from her eyes…from those eyes like his. _

Anakin flinched so heavily that his head hit the wall, and the pain mingled with the echo of a cry in his ears…his own cry. Panting, he sat up and tried to calm his frantic heartbeat. It had been just a nightmare…just another nightmare. He hadn't slept well since he had left Tatooine…in fact, he tried not to sleep at all, because the pictures that lurked in the corners of his consciousness only waited to devour him when he wasn't on guard.

A sudden thunder made him jump. On Tatooine, storms were a rare incident…there was no thunder and lightning and rain, there were sandstorms, and they were terrible, sure, but he was used to them. But this…it looked like the sky would engulf the planet, like pieces of the clouds would break from the black mass and cover the streets and buildings…a single starship passed by his window, and it reeled under the squalls…Anakin got sick of the view.

Everything was dark and cold, and the pictures of his nightmare kept coming, kept frightening him…his Mum had told him to be brave, but how should you be brave when everything was this dark and cold and scaring and lonely? Anakin made himself as small as possible and silently, very silently, started to sob into his pillow.

Suddenly there was a light outside his door, and then someone carefully opened his door.

"Anakin…?"

Anakin stiffened in shock. He had not meant to disturb his Master's sleep just because he was a pathetic little cry-baby who was afraid of the thunder and a childish nightmare. He had to be strong and brave…he had to be a real Jedi, and he was sure that real Jedi didn't have nightmares.

"Ani? Oh dear, young one, what happened?"

Warm hands pulled him into a cozy lap, and wiped away the tears.

"Oh Ani, you're shivering! I could have thought of that…sure you're not used to the climate on Coruscant…and the thunder is pretty scaring tonight, isn't it?"

Anakin nodded, and then flinched as the next deafening boom seemed to make the floor tremble. He hid his face in his Master's tunic, who still stroked his back shooingly.

"Ani…do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"

Anakin looked at his Master in surprise.

"Could…could I…but I have to be brave and strong, don't I? And Jedi don't…"

"Ani…even Jedi sometimes need comfort." _And so do I tonight._

"Come on…and I'm gonna look for a second blanket."

* * *

_Please be gentle, _

_I'm still learning…_

_Advertising Space - Robbie Williams_

_Obi-Wan taught Anakin how to write. _

"Anakin?"

Anakin shrank instinctively. He only knew Master Obi-Wan for barely three weeks now, but this wrinkle between his brows never meant anything good.

"Yes, Master?"

"Anakin, I just met Master Driadne in the corridor, and she told me that you never do your homework."

Anakin lowered his gazed timidly, looking at the pad in front of him. Matchstick men smiled back at him, and he coyly covered them with his hands.

"I'm sorry, Master."

"So she's right? Anakin, I'm really disappointed in you! Laziness is no trait for a Jedi! What did you think?"

Anakin hang his head. He could have known that Master Driadne would inform his Master, and now his Master was angry with him. The truth was that he really wanted to do his homework, but…

"Master…"

"Don't think you can come up with any lame excuse now, Padawan! I won't listen to your…"

"Master, I…I cannot write."

Obi-Wan froze in his angry pace back and forth Anakin's room, being taken completely aback.

"What?"

"I don't know how to write! All I know is my name! Nobody ever taught me!"

Tears blurred the boys vision. This was finally the end. Obi-Wan would laugh at him, and tell him that he was stupid, and he would have to go back to Tatooine, because no one wanted a stupid Padawan, and he would never become a Jedi Knight, because Jedi needed to write.

Soft hands wiped away his tears, and serious grey-blue eyes met his.

"Ani, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I didn't know…you should have told me!"

Anakin didn't look up. Obi-Wan didn't sound furious anymore, but one could never know…

"Shh, young one, stop crying. You know what? I'll teach you how to write. It's not that difficult!"

But it was difficult. Anakin mixed up the b's and the d's, he couldn't remember how to draw the curve of the s, and his h's and n's couldn't be distinguished.

But to his surprise, Obi-Wan never chastised him. He drew line after line in his own, neat handwriting, made up silly mnemonics ("S like saber! You have to move your saber like an s to defeat the droid!") and praised his Padawan for every right word until…

"Force, Padawan, it's already past ten! You have to go to bed!"

Anakin looked at him with sleepy, but very determined blue eyes.

"Just one more line, Master. Please!"

And so it happened that Obi-Wan carried his Padawan to bed half an hour later, and while he carefully tucked the small boy in, he heard Anakin's soft whisper:

"T – just as tall as a Twi'lek…Y – like Yoda with his long ears…"

And the next morning, Obi-Wan found a letter on the kitchen table.

_Dear Masta, _

_I'm in mai lesons. Promise to do homwork today. _

_Anikin_


	4. Everybody Cries

Hey you all,

again, a long time...but I can't do faster, I'm sorry, there's just too much stress in real life...hope, you'll enjoy reading anyway...and hope, you like the songs.,..oooohhh, and hope, you find the time to leave a tiny review =) 3

* * *

_They say that everybody cries,_

_So don't think twice,_

_'cause it's alright._

_Just impolite - Plushgun_

_Anakin taught Obi-Wan how to smile again._

Obi-Wan tried to stop his body from trembling, but he failed, failed as usual. The tears wouldn't stop streaming down his face until he had cried himself asleep. He played this game for weeks now, acting like he really was the calm, serene Jedi Master he was supposed to be, and not an insecure, broken youngling who felt like a lost orphan. He really tried to be strong…but all he could do was wearing a strong disguise to hide his true self. And the armor always cracked when he was alone, and then he sobbed like a baby, sobbed because of the sudden responsibilities he had to meet, sobbed because of his inability to be the wise leader for Anakin he should be, sobbed because he missed Qui-Gon, missed him so much…

If just Anakin didn't get what a nuisance his Master was, that he behaved like a pathetic little crybaby, like everything but the wise Master he should be…

He laughed bitterly under his tears. A Master…the only thing he managed masterly was the art of breaking down. A Master…he was barely an adult man, how could he guide such a promising little boy like Anakin was? How could they make him do that? How could Qui-Gon…

How could Qui-Gon have died, how could he leave him, and how could he dare to use his last breath for this boy, not for him, his devoted student, but for this foreigner from Tatooine…

Obi-Wan pressed his knuckles to his temples. He was being unfair now…Anakin, of all, was the last who should be accused for this mess, followed immediately by Qui-Gon. It was his own fault…his own fault that he was such a weakling in controlling his emotions, his own fault that every step he did felt like a failure, his own fault that he couldn't care better for Anakin.

The small boy didn't even ask for much…a warm bed, some pancakes and a little bit of affection…but Obi-Wan had never been good at expressing his feelings…and he had never been good with children. He heard Anakin's sobs often, late at night, and it was clear in every motion the boy made that he felt lonely, insecure and unfitting, and the old Obi-Wan would have certainly showed more compassion to his young housemate and student…but the old Obi-Wan had had a heart. Now, it felt like the Sith had stabbed that, too, in the same instant he had stabbed Qui-Gon.

And so, the best he could do to comfort the little, shivering bundle that was the most powerful Jedi talent since the days of Master Yoda, was to bring him a cup of hot chocolate and some empty words.

The Jedi laughed bleakly. The scabbiness of this gesture wavered as a sick irony in his mind…Qui-Gon would have known better how to deal with Anakin – Qui-Gon would have been better in everything.

Outside the door, Anakin bit his fingernails in deliberation. Obi-Wan was so sad…he would have known that even without seeing his tears. He tried to hide it, he really did, but Anakin wasn't stupid. He knew the clouds that obscured Obi-Wan's cerulean eyes, he had seen the same clouds for a million times in the eyes of his mother, when she was worried about their future, when there was again nothing more than a little bit of Blue Milk for their dinner, when Anakin came home with his back full of whip blows…

But he had always managed to cheer her up, hadn't he? He had made her laugh with senseless babble, had hugged her fiercely, had set the table with dusty desert flowers…

But none of these tricks seemed him apt for Obi-Wan…flowers definitely weren't something he would be happy about…no man would be happy about flowers…Anakin himself would tear the blooms in anger if the homesickness got hold of him again…wait…

Obi-Wan always knew how to comfort him in these blue hours when everything in him yearned for his mother, for his friends, and even for the grains of sand that suffocated everything on Tatooine…he always had a way to joy him up when he didn't feel good enough to be a Jedi, when he doubted everything or when he got lectured by his teachers…Obi-Wan always did the right thing…

And with a smile as bright as the twin suns above his home planet, Anakin dashed away from the door that still hid a broken Jedi.

Obi-Wan tried frantically to dry his eyes. Anakin would be home from classes soon, and he really deserved better than finding a wailing crybaby instead of his Master. He looked for a tissue in his sparsely furniture bedroom, but suddenly flinched as the door swung open and just wanted to scold Anakin for not having knocked as a small, warm hand slipped into his and a little body snuggled in his lap.

"Here, Master. I have prepared some hot chocolate for you. Everything will get better in time. That's the will of the Force."

Obi-Wan felt a lump in his throat, and at the same time, he wanted to laugh. Those were his words! The stupid, blunt words he used every time he saw his tiny apprentice in tears, tears because of loneliness, the cold or the fear of failure, and every time he had felt like a complete fool to comfort this doughty little boy with empty Jedi wisdoms…hadn't those words been that empty at all?

"Master…I know you are sad. And I'm sad to, sometimes. But it's better to be sad together than alone!"

Obi-Wan sipped of the mug and smiled at Anakin sheepishly and with a mouth slightly smeared of chocolate.

"Thanks, Ani…I really…appreciate it."

And how oddly, Obi-Wan mused as he watched his Padawan lick some cream from his fingers, how peculiarly comforting and encouraging a simple cup of hot chocolate could be.


	5. Coming Home

Hey you all...remember me? :) It's been a while, I fear...I just absolutely lost my muse for writing fanfiction. I graduated and started studying and moved to a new town with my boyfriend, and...anyway, then I saw TPM 3D in cinema and I was like "Duh...I miss that stuff!", and well...here's a new chapter to "Everybody's broken".

Hope, there's still anybody out there interested in it...if so, pleasyplease leave a review...I miss that stuff even more! :)

* * *

_Now you're somewhere in the summer, _

_always out to play._

_Me, I'm still trapped in that former_

_rainy, rainy day. _

_I could walke like a dictator straight to your door, _

_I could hold Darth Vader's power, _

_still you would be sure..._

_Seagull - Frittenbude vs. Enfant Terrible_

**Anakin taught Obi-Wan what it was like to be expected.**

Obi-Wan gently pulled down the lever and carefully left Hyperspace. It had been his first real solo mission as a Jedi Knight, nothing serious, just some negotiations on Naiban, and it all had turned out pretty much alright…no trouble, no explosions, no Sith here, evil there, and even the politicians seemed to have gathered enough personal wealth to refrain from interfering in any way.

The only reason why he had not been afraid before his departure was that Jedi weren't to be afraid. He wasn't worried about failure, or complications, just about the sickening feeling inside of his stomach that something, someone was missing.

At first, a mission without Qui-Gon had seemed like a saber duel without arms. Sure he had been on solo missions before, but there had always been Qui-Gon whom he could contact for advices, information or simply reassurance when he felt insecure.

But he had done well, had restrained himself from thinking about his loss, had lulled himself to sleep with meditations to prevent nightmares and had built a wall of concentration around him that nothing, not even his own thoughts, could break.

While he watched the skyscrapers of Coruscant coming closer, framed by the eternal night of the galaxy, Obi-Wan's thoughts wandered to his young Padawan. Anakin was living with him for three months now, and in fact it had been too early to leave him alone for a mission, for they were just at forming a bond. But Obi-Wan had known what it meant to defy the Council with taking Anakin as his Padawan – no mercy when it came to his temple duties interfering with the boy's training. For them, Qui-Gon's unlimited faith in the boy had not been enough, as it had been for him, and Obi-Wan wasn't surprised that they had no regards for his training. But he had only been away for a week…for sure, Anakin hadn't even quite notice his absence.

The advertisements on the high-rises colored his features pale green and blue as he prepared for landing. Force, he had even missed his Padawan a little…and he wasn't very happy about these sentimentalities, for he never, ever wanted to give his heart away again…not because of the "Jedi-shouldn't-form-attachments-bla", but because, well because it kriffing hurt!

But probably tonight, they could spend the evening together, just Master and Padawan, they would have pancakes because Anakin simply loved pancakes, and then Anakin would snuggle next to him ob the sofa with chocolate-smeared face and he would have to tell a story about the adventures in space, and although he would make a fuss, and lecture about the un-Jedi-ness of bragging, he would be happy to do so, and Anakin would listen closely and squeak at exactly the right places and huddle closer to his Master with excitement, and then he would beg him to re-enact some saber duel or another, and at some point, Anakin would fall asleep and Obi-Wan would have to carry him to bed.

The Jedi Master smiled absently. Sure Anakin was just playing with the other initiates right now, not even thinking about missing his Master. He'd give a lot to be as blithe again, although Anakin, too, had been through a lot already. But when he laughed about a joke or played with his spacecraft models, it seemed like every bad memory and sadness had left him forever.

Carefully he set the starship down. He really was looking forward to see Anakin…although he had to find him first, the little boy surely was playing tag with the other initiates, or sneaking in the kitchens for some candies, or doing something else he surely would get into trouble for…

As he walked down the ramp, his thoughts were on the Council report already, and if he would manage to represent his actions aptly…and suddenly a tiny bundle with a thatch of blonde hair flew towards him and hugged him so fiercely that he almost lost his balance.

"Oh Master, it's so good to see you back! I've asked Master Yoda when you would arrive, and then I've skipped classes…oh, um…am I in trouble? But I had to say hello, Master!"

Obi-Wan hugged his Padawan back, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

"Nice to see you, too, Ani…I think, we will write an excuse to your class teacher that you become unfortunately, unexpectedly, uncurably sick… – think he will buy it?"

Anakin shuffled awkwardly.

"Well…um…he might…if I hadn't accidentally told everyone that today is the bestest day ever because my Master is coming home."

It wasn't quite a laugh that came from Obi-Wan's lips, but not quite a sob either – it was just a sound of amazement and a short second of pure, unadulterated bliss…because even for a Jedi Master, there weren't many more cherished moments than to get a sight on a deep, deep love – the love of a child for its father.


	6. Truth, it had lied

_Have you ever seen a sound?_

_Have you listened to an image?_

_Have you ever touched a thought?_

_Have you ever tasted nothing?_

_Have you ever told a lie,_

_That was true more than the truth,_

_Because the truth, it had lied_

_All it's life when it spoke to you?_

_The Cat Empire - Miserere_

**Anakin taught Obi-Wan how to be defiant.**

Qui-Gon was defiant. Always. Obi-wan wasn't. He was obedient. He was devoted to the rules and codes of the Jedi community, and furthermore, to the rules and codes of the galaxy. Obi-Wan was a logical man, led by his common sense and wit, rarely letting his feelings show. Which didn't mean that he didn't feel – he just didn't rely on his heart to be a wise advisor. Obi-Wan liked to think things through, twice, thrice, ever so often, until the clue popped up before his inner eye. Until every potential risk and danger was eliminated, until every flaw of the plan was diminished, until...until the situation changed and there were new aspects and dangers that had to be considered.

Therefore, Obi-Wan was a fast thinker. He could assess and examine a situation in the blink of an eye, weigh pros and cons and take a decision faster than others who just acted on intuition. Qui-Gon always joked his Padawan would think for two – Obi-Wan backfired that he had to, because Qui-Gon mostly didn't think at all. They knew and appreciated their differences, Qui-Gon guided by the Living Force, the power of instinct and intuition, of the interests and aspirations of the smallest beings and most important men, Obi-Wan attuned to the Unifying Force, the big picture, the interplay of major and minor forces, of past and future, of good and bad, sense and nonsense…Together, they were their own Balance of the Force.

But Qui-Gon was gone, and Obi-Wan was standing in front of the council alone now, and his temple itched at the point where his Padawan braid had been severed – he was a knight now, and only determination and impeccable shielding kept him from crawling up in a hole and die. Everything had gone so well...he had reported every aspect of the treaties on Naiban, hadn't rambled or fluffed his lines, hadn't tripped or cackled suddenly with nervousness, and had even been praised for his own assassment of the situation - but then...

"Another mission, Masters?" _You can't be serious!_ "But…but I promised Anakin we'd start with saber training this week. We've just built up a bond…I can't go right now, or our progress will be shattered." _Oh, how amazed Anakin had been when he had felt Obi-Wan knocking on his brain for the first time..."Master, can you read my mind?" They had practiced all afternoon, Obi-Wan had taught his eager apprentice the first shielding lessons and they had alternately sent messages the other had to say out loud... sure, Obi-Wan had made Anakin say things like "I am a dumb Gundark!" which made the boy giggle and yearn for revenge, and when they couldn't think of any more insults, they'd had dinner and after Anakin had went to bed, Obi-Wan had received a single, sleepy message: /Good night, Master!/_

Obi-Wan rudely got snatched out of his thoughts. The serene aura in the Council Room had changed – impalpable for a normal being, but Obi-Wan was a Jedi, after all – and he sensed strong resentment.

"Continue, the training of the boy you can, when coming back. No harm, a little delay will do."

Obi-Wan faced the tiny old Jedi Master Yoda – the one among the Council whom he felt the closest.

"It will, Master Yoda, I'm sorry. Anakin is an extraordinary talent, but surely behind his age mates – I try my best to close this gap as soon as possible."

The ginger-haired man heard the slightest snort behind him, but before he could turn, Master Ki-Adi Mundi addressed him.

"Again, it's the Skywalker kid who requires special treatment…remember, young knight, that all are the same before the Force."

Obi-Wan almost laughed out loud. "All other newly assigned Master-Padawan-Teams are granted a few months of time on Coruscant for getting to know each other. I'm sorry, but I fail to see the 'special treatment' if I do request the same right. Anakin needs me here – building up a bond is of primary importance!"

Mace Windu rolled his eyes, his voice cold.

"The loyalty of a knight lies within the Temple, Kenobi, it lies within the missions assigned by the Council. You talk like a youngling trying to come off extra chores with your excuses."

"Excuses?" Obi-Wan's breath hitched. Dammit, he should have taken lessons with Qui-Gon. Angering the Council definitely didn't come to him naturally – he felt the insistent urge to run far, far away.

"Excuses, Master Windu? We're talking about the training of my Padawan here. I only came back from Naiban two days ago, where I spent a whole week just watching two wizened leaders signing the same treaties they have been signing each spring for sixty years now – without any problems and without any supervision of the republic. It was a mission every Apprentice would have been capable of, if he was not bored to death. So why me? No Master has to go away when the Bond is still so frail!"

It hadn't been an enjoyable talk so far, but what came next left Obi-Wan completely breathless.

"That is because the training of other apprentices actually leads to something!"

Release your anger through the Force…release your disappointment through the Force…release Master Windu though the Force to a foreign desert planet…dammit.

"With all due respect, Master Windu, Qui-Gon did…"

"Oh for the Force's sake, Kenobi, are you a puppet? You don't want to train that Tatooinan kid either, you just follow the whims of a dead man –"

_Pictures flooded Obi-Wan's head. Pictures of Qui-Gon, smiling, twinkling down to his apprentice, of long discussions , longer sparring sessions and the overwhelming sensation of having made the older man proud, of Qui-Gon fighting, and of him falling, and the last precious seconds, the promise…_

_And then – other pictures. Pictures of Anakin, sitting forlornly on a kitchen chair, trying to vanish into the much too big coat of Obi-Wan that couldn't help against the chill of cold thoughts and sorrowful hearts. Of Anakin, smiling genuinely for the first time after Naboo – smiling to him. Of a tiny blond boy with pancake dough in his hair, slumbering peacefully under Obi-Wan's watch, nightmares held off by mere trust and faith in the fact that if he woke up, his Master wouldn't be far. Of his Padawan drawing big, lopsided letters on every piece of paper he could get a grip on, and the first time that "Obi-Wan" was written flawlessly. Of his boy, the tiny hands, so trusting in his own bigger ones, of the lump body he sometimes carried to bed, of the pink cheeks and the infectious laughter and the times they spent together, so short and yet so precious, and he knew –_

"I'm sorry to disagree, Master Windu. It's not Qui-Gon whom I follow - I follow the Force. Anakin is my Padawan, and his well-being and happiness is paramount to me. It was Qui-Gon who detected him – but it's me who trains him, who raises him, and I fail to see how the Force doesn't show you how _right _that is!"

Obi-Wan bowed deeply to the Council's shocked, petrified faces and turned around to leave. It was a lection Qui-Gon had always insisted upon: That there were times, when the Code and the Council were clear and logical, but not just, and Obi-Wan smiled to himself about the irony that it had not been his revered Master to teach him that lesson – but a tiny, blonde boy from Tattoine.


	7. Fireworks in here

Hey everyone still out there, it has been even longer this time. I truly am sorry. Actually, I totally had no inspiration or whatsoever to complete another chapter, although a lot of drafts are already waiting in my textbooks - and then I accidentally found a lovely message in my Inbox that I must have overlooked earlier, and I was like "Wait...Fanfiction...that was like, fantastic!" And before I realized, this chapter was half-written and I couldn't chicken out any longer - so here it is, a new chapter for "Everybody's broken". I hope you like it, and that I haven't lost all writing skills - and that maybe, possibly, hopefully you will feel like hitting the teeny-weeny review-button on the bottom of the page - I'd jump for joy. And I mean it literally!

Thanks for reading :)

* * *

_I'm feeling fireworks in here,_  
_light up the atmosphere,_  
_and I can see so far._  
_I'm feeling fireworks in here,_  
_you are the wish, my dear_  
_I made upon the star._

_You can call me crazy,_  
_call me any way you do,_  
_this has fallen for you_

_You and I – are a universe!_

_Mrs. Greenbird – Shooting Stars & Fairytales_

**Obi-Wan taught Anakin to have a goal**

Obi-Wan lifted his gaze from the endless pile of reports and files to the blonde little boy that sat at the other side of the table, equally buried beneath papers that he swore to be worse than the essay on juristic quarries on Kashyyk – his homework.

It had been a quarter of a year now, and still the Jedi sometimes froze when he heard those tiny feet padding on the kitchen floor, the high voice of a child in the room next to his, the pearly laughter from the living room. He still stopped dead sometimes when seeing the shoes, completely similar to his own, but approximately half their size, stacked neatly next to the door, and wondered whose it were – and then it all came back to him, and although it were also bitter memories of loss and horror, he had to walk into Anakin's room and _be sure. _Be sure that he hadn't imagined it all. That he had really lost his Master, that he was a full-value knight now, no longer a learner, and most of all – that the boy was there.

He had come to a point where he didn't just occupy himself with Anakin because that was what a Master did, but because he liked it. He liked doing homework together and remember all the things he himself had learned at school. He looked forward to walking through the Temple together and explain all the curious things, rooms and beings they came across. He enjoyed meditating together – well, trying to meditate, because Anakin was fidgeting constantly and portraying vivid images of _everything_ but serenity through their bond. But then, Anakin had only started learning, every youngling had his difficulties with meditation, and Obi-Wan could reap the fruits of his hard work every day. Anakin was a fast learner, a truly witty and eager child, and extremely interested. His constant nosiness, his thirst for knowledge and his excitement when learning something new gave Obi-Wan a deep sense of contentment.

He knew that Anakin was _The Chosen One_, but deep inside himself he knew that this wasn't why Anakin seemed so special to him. It was because he was _his_ Padawan, and he was starting to be a Master like those he had always smirked about – someone who told everyone who would listen the talents and of his protégé and swore that there had _never _been a more talented child in the Temple.

And he knew something else – that although Anakin had only been in the Temple for three short months, and younglings usually had to train for years to come this far, today was the day Anakin was ready. They had practiced to center the young boy within himself, to erase fidgeting and clumsiness, and to improve the agility and preciseness of the muscles – and today, Anakin would touch a lightsaber for the first time. He just didn't know that yet, and Obi-Wan had felt like the cat that got the cream for the whole day, because today he could announce it to his young charge.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. Anakin, who had nibbled on his bottom lip in consideration, jumped a little and immediately sat up straighter. Light blue eyes met grey ones

"Master?"

Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly, and Anakin relaxed visibly. So he was not going to be at the receiving end of a lecture for lolling around.

"Anakin, I think it's time for a little…lightsaber practice."

There was silence for the fraction of a second – and then Anakin jumped up and down as high as his sitting position allowed. Obi-Wan grinned at the image – "quivering with anticipation" had never been used more aptly. As fast as his blonde Padawan had settled enough to at least visually master the everlasting calm and serenity a Jedi should display, they had gone on their way towards the training halls. Obi-Wan first showed Anakin some easy stretching exercises while he went in search for a junior-sized training lightsaber. Anakin let his gaze wander avidly through the vast hall, awash with light. Everywhere, there were Jedi training and sparring in couples or threes, everywhere, there were ignited lightsabers, adding a sparkling green, blue, violet shade to the everpresent light that curiously seemed to evaporate from the stone itself. Suddenly something hit him – he belonged here. They were all Jedi, like he was now, they were a big family, and he would strive to be worth of that belonging, to be accepted as a valuable part of that community of good, strong people. And, most of all, he would strive to be worth of his Master, of his teaching and tutelage, and of the affection he already gave so freely.

Again he let his gaze wander, this time in search of Obi-Wan – and frowned in surprise when he found him hugging a tall, towering man with a long ponytail. He watched a little jealously as Obi-Wan continued to talk to this stranger in a manner that made clear that they had known each other for a long time. Just as Anakin started to wonder whether he should dare to walk over, Obi-Wan looked up and beckoned him closer. Anakin eagerly complied and just managed to catch the rest of Obi-Wan's phrase:

"…my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker!"

Anakin was met with an intense, but not unfriendly gaze out of surprisingly gentle eyes. The tall man smiled, then extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Anakin. My name is Garen Muln – I have been a friend of Obi-Wan since we have been younger than you are now. And still he has not managed to become taller than me."

Obi-Wan huffed indignantly.

"Size doesn't matter, as I may inform you! And I'm the better fighter!"

Garen Muln laughed, a deep, resounding rumble, and involuntarily, Anakin had to grin. To his surprise, Obi-Wan joined his laughter, and Anakin's grin widened – laughing was something his Master rarely did. If this new man could evoke such a pleasant situation, he couldn't be bad at all.

"Talking big, aren't we? Well, prove it, old friend – sparring match? We haven't done this for ages!"

Obi-Wan's gaze rested on Anakin.

"Actually, Garen, I have promised Anakin that we would start with his first Katas today…"

Garen Muln and Anakin started to speak up immediately.

"Turning chicken, Obi-Wan?" Garen grinned, but Anakin drowned out his jibe.

"Oh Master, _please_! I'd love to see you fight! And…imagine all the things I can learn from watching!"

"That's right, Obi-Wan!" Garen smirked with a wink at Anakin "Doesn't Master Yoda always say 'Always pass on, what you have learned'? And now you try to take this great chance from your very own Padawan? Do you really want to…"

"Alright, alright!" laughed Obi-Wan, who knew when to acknowledge defeat. Anakin's puppy-eyed expression and Garen's ridiculous argumentation was too much to withstand.

"I'd be pleased to take part in a training fight with you, Knight Muln!" he said with a exaggerated bow, and laughed out loud when Garen gave Anakin a high-five. Talk about love at the first sight – and Anakin didn't even know that Garen was a professional pilot yet!

Anakin watched eagerly as Garen and Obi-Wan joked around while performing several stretching exercises to be ready for dueling. His Master had lifted hip up a beam normally used for balancing, and that had proven to be a wise decision, because soon, the area around the two duelers was crowded. Everybody tried to seem very busy with themselves, but to Garen, the reason for their presence was clear – everybody wanted to see Obi-Wan _Sith-Slayer_ Kenobi fight. He looked his old friend over unobtrusively. Obi-Wan seemed older, and although barely noticeable, Garen immediately spotted the difference – the once impulsive and light-hearted young man had lost more than his Master on Naboo – he had left behind a huge part of his innocence. And yet, Obi-Wan was faring way better than he would have thought. He'd rather have bitten off his own tongue than telling his friend the truth about his stay on Coruscant. He wasn't here for some unpostponable talk to the Council – he had wanted to check for himself that Obi-Wan was alright. Bant had written to him several times, but he hadn't been able to believe her until he saw with his own eyes that Obi-Wan was _really, truly _doing ok.

Garen's attention wandered – from the Master to the Padawan sitting on his lookout above everyone's heads. This was the famous _Chosen One_ – in fact, after all he had heard about the boy, he had instantly felt a strong dislike for him. He could imagine the pain it had caused Obi-Wan to hear his beloved Master choose this foreign child over him, he knew the reservation the Council had shown before allowing Obi-Wan to train him, he knew that initially Obi-Wan hadn't even _wanted_ to at all, he had done it just to fulfill a promise. And then he had met Anakin for himself – and had immediately warmed to the boy. He wasn't at all like Garen had imagined – no spoiled, arrogant prat from the Outer Rim, but a small, insecure, blonde being that truly seemed to worship Obi-Wan. And he truly could not disregard the way Obi-Wan had talked about him, the way he had smiled – he knew how hard it was to gain Obi-Wan's trust and affection, and obviously this boy had done this feat immediately.

He was thwarted from his musings by a playful punch against his shoulders. Obi-Wan grinned mockingly at him.

"Now who's turning chicken? Do you want to spar or not, Garen?"

Smiling himself, Garen bowed low before his oldest and best friend, and after Obi-Wan had repeated the gesture, they adopted their fighting stance, ignited their sabers tuned to low power – and the duel began.

Anakin's eyes were almost too slow to follow the proceedings. Both men moved with breath-taking grace and velocity, they whirled and jumped like forces of nature, their sabers were nothing more than hazy blurs of light. Anakin gasped in shock – he had been so sure that Garen's blade had hit Obi-Wan's bare neck, but it just whizzed though thin air – Obi-Wan was long gone with an artistic somersault. To Anakin it seemed as though he could read his opponent's mind – no one could have actually _seen _the movement before it would have been too late. Then, with a potent buzz, both sabers collided in mid-air, and suddenly, both men were standing still, caught in a duel of raw power as each one tried push the other off-balance. Anakin noticed the muscles working under Obi-Wan's sweat-glistening skin, muscles he hadn't known the young man possessed – only right now, Anakin realized the power his Master could wield, the lethal forces reigning behind that calm façade, but instead of being afraid, as he knew he would have been when faced with such a power in his earlier life, he felt a pride and sense of belonging he had never known before. As long as this fierce, brave, terrific man would be proud of him, would accept him as his ward, he could and would endure anything – the loneliness, the feelings of being a misfit didn't matter any longer, because someone thought he belonged, and it wasn't just any random someone – it was the paragon of everything the Jedi Order stood for!

Still, none of the men had given up a single inch of floor to the other, and suddenly, they grinned at each other about their obvious stalemate. Then, again to fast for Anakin to truly perceive, the situation had changed completely, and the movements had become a blur again. He was not the only one to be impressed, though – everywhere around, he could hear hushed statement of praise for both knights, and particularly some of the younger Padawans' eyes were just as round as his. Finally, Garen, who had a physical advantage, seemed to have gotten the upper hand – with a series of quick blows, he forced Obi-Wan backwards until he almost touched the brick wall of the training halls. And then, all of a sudden, Obi-Wan was _gone_, and the crowd seemed to exhale as one – Obi-Wan had reappeared behind Garen, his saber at his old friend's throat, poised to burn through the sensitive flesh.

One moment, both men remained in their stance, then both lowered their swords and grinned at each other, seemingly oblivious to the staring crowd around them that only slowly started to disperse. Anakin's heart still beat heavily in his chest. Sure, he had known that his Master was great, just the way every Padawan knew about his, but never before he had been able to exactly estimate what Obi-Wan was capable of. Before he knew what he did, he had jumped down from his lookout and dashed towards the now joking friends – and before Obi-Wan had known what happened, either, Anakin had hugged him fiercely.

"Master! That was, that was, that was…brilliant!"

Both men started to laugh at this, and Anakin blushed furiously.

"I mean, I…well…I am deeply impressed, Master, and Master Muln, and I wanted to express my gratitude for…"

Garen laughed even louder at this.

"Totally your boy, Obi-Wan…he's already talking like a negotiator!"

"If you say so, Garen…and now I fear you will have to excuse us! I will have to make a fighter out of my little negotiator here!"

Anakin didn't quite know what was so funny, but he liked the way Garen made Obi-Wan laugh and banter, he liked the way the older man shook his own hand earnestly for good-bye, and he liked that the two friends appointed a re-match for two days later. And what he liked the most was that several minutes later, he closed his own small hands around the hilt of a real, buzzing, blazing blue lightsaber.


	8. Pick up the Pieces

If you pick up the pieces,

I'll put them together,  
Only time can be the glue,

Only time will let them dry.

Only you and me inside my head,  
Time and time again.  
These talks turn to stone

And when they dry we will be ready!  
Only time can keep your heard steady  
On beat, on beat.

We've been searching the sky for answers,  
Look to the stars so that I feel small  
And my problems don't seem so big…

Searching the Sky for Answers - Playradioplay

_Obi-Wan taught Anakin that he was accepted. _

"Extraordinarily well done, Padawan!"

A small and a taller body slumped down on a bench, both completely out of breath. Nevertheless, both Jedi were grinning happily – Anakin because of the received praise and the excitement of wielding a real lightsaber, Obi-Wan because of the impressive proof of talent his young ward had once again displayed. It seemed as if the basic steps and stances of the first Katas were natural to Anakin, his balance was impeccable, his shielding instinctively right. Sure, there were missteps and overly-enthusiastic movements, and they had started practicing with Anakin's strong right hand, but for a first-timer, Anakin was once again the most promising student Obi-Wan had ever met.

Somehow, the ease with which Anakin seemed to manage _everything _was starting to worry his Master. He had never been taught the alphabet – and one day after starting to learn, he already wrote short letters. He had never been sitting in the cockpit of a starship, and had effortlessly left battle-tried pilots behind. He had never known about the Force, but his grasp on it was so instinctive as if he had been trained since crawling stage.

The boy hadn't had much contact to his fellow Initiates, he was only sitting in lessons with them, and the knowledge to be gained here he had to revise like everyone else – more than that, he had to catch up on several years of intense lessons. And until now, he was excluded from fighting classes, everyone had thought it best to let him make his first steps alone without a mob of over-eager Jedi students around him. But there would come the time when Anakin had to vie with the others, and they would soon notice his talent, his easy ability to learn things he was interested in, his innate comprehension and grasp of the Force – and then jealousy would be bound to arise. Already, Obi-Wan heard the whispers on the corridors, about the magically talented Chosen One who had been a slave for the most part of his life. His own Padawan time was not so far behind him that he couldn't remember the fierce desire to prove himself, to be the_ best_, and to finally win a Master's affection and faith. There were many Initiates that were far older than Anakin who had to fear for a chance to become a Jedi, who were faced with the very realistic possibility of being shunted and forgotten on some AgriCorps station in the galactic nowhere. Anakin had not had to compete for a place under a Master's wings – in truth, there had been even two men, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan himself, who had been willing to train him - other Padawans would give several fingers for being in this situation. And although none of this was Anakin's _fault_, he would pay the price for it – and he already did.

The boy didn't speak much about his time at lessons, but from what he could gather, Obi-Wan reckoned that he hadn't been able to make friends yet. The other students had grown up together, had known each other for their whole life, and Anakin was as _alien_ to them as anyone could be. Their sheltered upbringing collided with his harsh slave life. Their ignorance about their backgrounds and heritage was met with Anakin's yearning for his mother. Their meticulous training clashed with Anakin's raw potential and uncut talent – Obi-Wan feared for his young ward's well-being, and for the effects on his character this complicated situation could have.

But right now, it seemed almost ridiculous to be worried about anything. Anakin had showed an impressing performance, Obi-Wan had found great pleasure in teaching the movements that had been second nature to him for decades. And, he thought with a slight surge of pride, he had shown the whole Temple that the crazy Kenobi was more than just a wayward kid who only wanted to have his way with the young, hopeless slaveboy, more than just someone who had managed a lucky strike against a maybe-or-maybe-not-Sith. He knew that he had been blessed with incredible luck fighting this unknown power on Naboo, luck his Master had not been granted. But he also started to see his own share in influencing fate in the fight – he no longer was a clumsy, oafy Padawan, he was a fully-trained Jedi Knight, a Master – and no bad one in that, a fact that was proven by the head of a small, honey-blonde boy that had sleepily sunk against his shoulder.

Smiling slightly, he gently nudged his young protégé.

"Get up, Anakin – before we can get a little rest, we need to go back to our rooms – and first, take a shower. You will catch a cold running around sweaty like that!"

With these words, Obi-Wan got on his feet and started walking towards the changing rooms – leaving a suddenly very wide awake Anakin behind. Basically, he very much liked taking a shower. On Tatooine, he had washed himself with a towel and as little water as possible, for it was a valuable good on a desert planet. So when his Master had shown him the luxuries of showers and faucets and water that just came from out of the walls, he had had great fun ducking his head under the lush stream, feeling the soft, pleasant feeling of being truly cleansed by the warm rivulets flowing down his slight frame. But that was in the secure little bathroom he shared with his Master in their quarters, where he had his privacy.

He jumped on his feet and run after Obi-Wan, who had not yet noticed his Padawan's loitering, a sinking feeling in his stomach, that only intensified when they arrived at the shower room. There were no dividing walls, no small cubicles, no curtains, no…nothing he could inconspicuously dive behind, wash and be dressed before anyone would notice - just two rows of showers at each wall and white, immaculate tiles.

Obi-Wan, completely oblivious of his Padawan's anguish, was already halfway undressed and waved encouragingly to Anakin while turning on one shower on the right. Sure, the light in here was dim, but Anakin didn't want to imagine what his Master would say when seeing his bare skin. Involuntarily, he started to tremble – the image of Watto was once more vivid in his head. How furious he had been when he had seen Anakin's back, his arms, his tighs, he had called him damaged goods, no good for nothing, and then everything had started all over again, just worse, because Watto didn't need to be careful anymore – the damage was done. And Obi-Wan would think the same. How could he be a fighter for peace mauled like that? How could he become pure as a Jedi had to be when carrying such signs of darkness? How could he be a decent and adequate apprentice when he was that ugly? Obi-Wan would only need one look at him and all the nice things he had said and done wouldn't count anymore – he would send Anakin back to Tatooine, and Anakin would be a slave again and… It had been foolish to believe that Obi-Wan really liked him. _Nobody_ really liked him, that was what Watto had always said, except his mother, and somehow she had to, right?

A sudden touch on his cheek made the boy jump. Obi-Wan crouched on eye-level in front of him, a towel slung around his hips, his face an image of concern. Anakin hadn't noticed his approach, neither had he been aware of the tears that had started leaking from his eyes. Instinctively, he jumped back and tried to dash away, he didn't want to see Obi-Wan's disgust and anger, but a strong hand caught him around his waist and held him back.

"Anakin, what's the matter? Did I say something wrong?"

Soft blue eyes gazed from under a dropping mop of ginger hair. Obi-Wan was soaking wet and wore nothing but the towel, but Anakin had nevertheless instinctively snuggled close to his chest – if he couldn't run away, he could at least try and enjoy the last peaceful moment.

"Come on, Ani, we need to get you out of those clothes! You're all sweaty and wet…!"

Strong hands were pulling at his tunics, and Anakin sobbed and fought…but it was too late. Obi-Wan had caught a glimpse of his back, and he could feel the man stiffen. Anakin closed his eyes, and waited, prepared for the worst.

Nothing happened.

Anakin carefully opened his eyes – and gazed in the face of an avenging angel. Immediately, he closed his eyes again and shuddered even more violently, a single word echoing in his head – _over, over, over…_

"Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice sounded hoarse. "Anakin…what have they done to you?"

Even if he had wanted, Anakin couldn't answer – he felt as if he would never be able to say anything again. But Obi-Wan wasn't stupid. In his years as a Jedi, he'd had more than just his share of the evil side of the galaxy, but it was something totally different if it had happened to someone he knew – someone he cared about – someone as innocent as his little Padawan learner. Anakin still sobbed and shivered, but he didn't move as Obi-Wan approached again and gently lifted off the boy's tunic, studied every scar and weal caused by whips and canes and sometimes by Watto's blunt hands. Bruises and wounds caused by objections and slowness and sometimes just because Watto had needed someone to vent his anger on. Marks and gashes that criss-crossed over the soft skin of a child, nothing more than an innocent child – Obi-Wan had rarely ever felt so powerless. He engulfed his little, shivering Padawan in a tender hug and whispered, just loud enough for Anakin to hear:

"I will never let anything like that happen to you again, my Padawan. Do you hear me? Never!"

Anakin was so surprised he found his voice again.

"But…you don't think I'm damaged goods? Am I still good enough to become a Jedi?"

Obi-Wan frowned.

"Anakin, there's only one thing that decides if you're good enough! It's your faith in yourself and in the things we fight for! No bad things from your past can take this away, only if you let them change you. No scars could make you lose your apprenticeship, we all do have scars!"

Obi-Wan stretched out his right arm and pointed on a curved red scar, interspersed with darker dots of torn flesh. It looked like the remnants of a cruel rope that had curled around him.

"There, I was hit by a thorned whip when I was fourteen…"

Then he turned slightly so that Anakin could see his surprisingly broad, slightly freckled shoulders, one of them marred by a pointed oval fleck.

"…here, someone shot at me with a Blaster and I wasn't quick enough to get out of the way…"

Now, he motioned for Anakin to look down at his bare feet, one of them shimmering slightly pinkish.

"…and that's from when I tripped into a fire on Stianon. Still itching sometimes."

Again, serious blue eyes met his.

"Anakin, I got most of these because I was reckless or unfocused – you got yours because you suffered great wrongs in your life. So you have even less reason for being ashamed about them – I certainly won't think any less of you. It rather shows the difficulties you managed to live through, without losing your spirit and wish to bring blessings to the Galaxy – and for that I am very proud of you."

Anakin made wide eyes. Suddenly, his own scars didn't seem to be any more ugly than the ones of his Master – and those weren't ugly at all, because they were signs of the bravery the man had shown, whatever he might say about recklessness.

Obi-Wan smiled as he watched Anakin nodding slightly and losening his shorts, too. It would be a long way until they both could forget what they had been – Anakin the young, mistreated slave boy, Obi-Wan the insecure, aloof young man, but every day, they learned so much from each other. And that was how a good Master-apprentice-relationship should be.

"Master?" A little voice jolted him from his musings. Anakin stood under the shower next to him, equally wet and spluttering a little as some foam trickled into his mouth.

"Will you tell me the stories of the whip and the fire and the blaster shot?"

Obi-Wan smiled a very big and very wet smile.

"I will, little one – when we're both well and dry at home with a cup of tea!"


End file.
